What's in Store
by 100FACES
Summary: Jason is a normal kid. He starts off his journey with a disgruntled pachirisu, only wishing to become a great trainer. When a celebi pokemorph is put into the mix, Jason is pulled into the world of pokemorphs and forced into a race for survival.
1. The Arrival of Oak

Pachirisu had spent her life in the wild

Pachirisu had spent her life in the wild. She was a strong yet adorable pokemon, fierce too and not easily trusting of humans. It was easy for anybody to see this in her, and professor Oak was no exception. He patted her, almost affectionately, but he never babied her or spoiled her, lovely as she was.

He was meeting with Heatra, an old college buddy of his the next day. It was the prospect of talking to her that had brought him all the way across the globe to the savage region of Ozzasi. Years had past since their last meeting and nervous as he was, Oak couldn't wait to meet up with her.

Recently she'd been made famous for discovering a rare orange pikachu. Her whole life had been spent researching the "shiny" pokemon phenomenon, and now this! The world ushered her around like she was a famous actress, but everyone knew they were much less interested in her than they were the miraculous pikachu.

He was 16 when professor oak came to town. Although Jason didn't know much about the man, having grown up on the opposite side of the globe from him, he knew the professor was an expert on pokemon.

His parents were both young when they had him and had spent most of their lives taking care of him. To leave them would have been betrayal. And so he didn't. He'd grown up on a miltank ranch and been amazing at pokemon studies in school, compared to most kids his age, trainers or not, he was an expert on pokemon. All of this though, meant nothing. He was destined to live in this small town, atop a high mountain, forever.

Markus was his father, but more importantly he was a gym leader. He was the town's pride and joy, to have a real gym, and not in a city was a big thing. At least, that was how things had once been.

Jason's father, after a feverish fight with his mother over the matter had decided to move.

"It's been so long, Professor. How are you?" Heatra asked, all sugary sweet. It was her fakeness that made her unique though. The way she sugar coded everything gave the aging woman an adorable demeanour.

"Good to see you, too, Heatra. I'm fine thanks, a little thirsty."

"Oh dear. Well I'll have someone fetch you something to drink."

The professor shook his head. "That's quite alright, thank you." Out of the corner of his eye he'd seen something, or rather someone dart towards the kitchen. He stared for a moment, unsure if his eyes had perhaps deceived him.

"That's Molly, don't worry about her."

Oak looked towards Heatra, dumbfounded. "Was, was she a pokemon?"

His friend chuckled slightly. "When was the last time you turned on the news, professor?" she asked. "The region is known for them, you know."

"I watch the news on a daily basis, thank you very much." He was aggravated. How could she expect him to have no reaction? "Pokemorphs aren't something you see in Kanto… I've never seen one myself, I'm just a little taken back."

She smiled and he could see where the years had aged her face. There were creases and smile lines and bagginess that hadn't been there when they were young. It had been too long; to expect her to be the same was wrong of him. But when had she started talking with the sugary sweet tone of voice only found in the elderly. Did he talk differently, too? "You've seen every kind of pokemon, and most kinds of people. What's so strange about the two mixing?"

"Let's not forget that it's team Rocket who started this whole pokemorph business."

She shook her head. "So what? They're out of the picture now, no one's heard from that group in years."

Oak cleared his throat. "Erm, anyways. About this pikachu of yours."

"Did you hear, that famous professor from overseas has come to town," Jason's mother told him. He just shrugged. Everyone knew about it, so why was his mother asking? "I was thinking, what with your father gone and everything, there's not much reason for you to stick around here."

He looked up for the first time. "What are you talking about?"


	2. Maggie's Creation

Pachirisu had spent her life in the wild

He felt angry all of the sudden. It was what he'd always wanted, yet why now? His mother looked at him, a placid expression on her face. Jason shot her a dirty look, feeling all at once disgusted in her, himself and then, his father. A part of him wanted to believe his mother meant nothing by this, that merely she was joking around. After all the time he'd spent at home, taking care of her, how dare she send him off now?

"Jason..." she began. He got up, and made a move towards the door. "I only want you to be happy."

He shook his head. "No. You don't."

"Don't be ridiculous, Jason. You're still my little boy, and I'm still your mother. I know what's best for you. Getting out, away from this place, is what you need."

Jason was a handsome kid; his appearance was nothing like his mother's-something that had bothered him for many years. "Why don't I look like you, Mom?" He asked sneeringly.

She gave him the most piercing of her 'mom' looks. "Don't you start that again," she threatened.

"Fine, I won't. I'll do exactly what you told me to do; I'll go on an adventure. But I hope you know I'm not coming back."

His mother looked at him, and he knew suddenly what she saw: the spitting image of his runaway father. Jason shuddered to himself, he'd never felt so alienated by his mother before. Had something come over her? He felt a sudden urge to rush and give her and hug and promise to never leave her. But he saw that look in her eyes, even if it was only there for a moment.

"You only ever saw him in me, mom. You never saw _me_."

"Now Jason, that's simply not true." But he was already out the door.

Heatra lived in a large house, where everything seemed to him, oversized. The living room could have fit a small house inside of it; it reminded him of the great final battle rooms of the pokemon league. But if the rooms themselves were large one could scarcely notice do to the oversized items that filled them up. The Television was more of a mini movie screen, and the chandelier, a luscious creation of giant crystals and a single diamond at the center. As for the furniture it was comfortable and fluffy and only accentuated by the loud hues of color.

Professor Oak sighed to himself. This wasn't going quite as expected. He got up and walked over to the wall, which was actually a massive window. His gaze went all over the small town, finding nothing special or unique, except one boy. He was walking towards the house at top speed, the long main of his jacket flowing behind him. The old professor chuckled, the people of Ozzasi were known for their eccentric way of dressing, but this kid just looked like a vampire.

Heatra got up to join him. "Oh, that's Jason."

Oak nodded. "Is he your assistant?"

Heatra shook her head. "No, he's the old gym leader's son. I always imagined he'd grow up to be a trainer like his father, but for some reason he never left home."

There was something about the kid that Oak liked, immediately. "Could I talk to him?"

His old friend gave him a devilish grin. "You see something in him, don't you?" she questioned. "You could always see the potential in kids so easily. Pity you didn't warn me sooner that I had no potential as a trainer," she joked. "Maybe then I wouldn't have wasted so much time in taking 'Trainer studies' in college."

"I don't think that was a waste of time, you learned something after all."

The doorbell rang. "That must be Jason, funny though, I'm not sure why he's come all this way. Perhaps he heard _you_ were here, professor."

"I very much doubt that," he replied. "But let me meet him anyways."

In a flash, Oak saw the pokemorph open the door and disappear. The kid-Jason was what Heatra had called him-entered, looking nervous and stiff as a board. He had long black hair which he had brushed back either to accentuate his widow's peak or his bright green eyes, the professor couldn't be sure. His skin was a shade darker than the taboo vampire, and underneath the long black trench coat the professor could see he was wearing what most boys sported, blue jeans and a black t-shirt.

There was always something about the face though that showed a trainer's potential. Perhaps it was his strong jaw, or his piercing gaze, but Jason definitely had 'the trainer look'. On the down side the kid was a little on the scrawny side and not super muscular looking.

"Jason, how lovely to see you," Heatra exclaimed. "What brings you to see me?"

"I… I've come to see the professor actually."

"Oh?" Oak appraised the boy again. He already knew what the kid was there for, but he asked anyways. "What would you like?"

"I was wondering… if you could give me a pokemon. I'll-I'll pay for it, if you'd like. And um, you've got to understand I'm not one of those psycho's who's gonna like 'release it back to the wild. I really want to be a trainer."

"You're a little old; don't you think this might be a problem?" Heatra asked.

"But you must know, my dad's a gym leader, training is in my blood. I mean, when it comes to pokemon, I'm an expert."

Oak chuckled. "I think I can help you, but only if you agree to help me."

She watched this silently from the door, letting only a crack remain open, just enough to see yet not be seen. Heatra would be very angry at her for letting herself be seen not once, but twice. While one part of her gazed at the boy with longing the other silently waited for her next command. She wanted more than anything to run out and ask for a pokemon, too. Only she didn't, her fear kept her glued to place. It was one thing to be a pokemorph, but one of her rare breed? She'd never survive in the outside world. Heatra made sure she remembered this, too.

Heatra had a secret, one of unimaginable power. Finding shiny pokemon was hard, making them was easy. The 'shiny' pokemon phenomenon was not so much a phenomenon as it was a freak accident in nature. A pregnant pokemon exposed to a certain chemical had a 30 chance of giving birth to a discoloured pokemon. (For the record none of this we don't know where the egg came from nonsense. Pokemon give Birth!)

What was particularly astonishing about Heatra however, was her other secret discovery. She'd come across a Celebi maybe 20 years prior. It had taken 6 years of research but eventually she'd perfected the breeding, or rather, cloning of Celebi. Much like the creators of Mewtwo, her first creation was a flop. It was too intelligent, too powerful and it quickly got out of control. She'd hired someone to kill it shortly afterwards.

All of this wouldn't stop her though. And though many projects failed, eventually she created the perfect clone, and the first baby Celebi that anyone had ever seen. She knew if anyone found out about her research it would be proclaimed unethical, so she never told anyone. However it was through the cloning Celebi project that she'd discovered the chemical needed to make shiny pokemon.

Her hunger only grew from there on. She'd made acquaintances of the Ozzasi Team Rocket leader, Ralph. He spoke of pokemorphs, how if he longed for a world where one could be both the pokemon and the trainer. Perhaps, he'd added, he could find a way to give people the power of pokemon, without the misfortune of looking like a strange cross-breed.

Heatra had taken this to heart. She knew she couldn't speak to Ralph of her plans, he'd want in on it. However, nothing was going to stop her. She and her team of Celebis infiltrated the headquaters, searching the memories of grunts and scientists, trying to find the way to make pokemorphs. And she succeeded. Ralph never found out, the celebis took care of that.

The cells of a beautiful, pink celebi, infused into the genetic coding of a young girl. The girl's real name had long since been forgotten. And the celebi whose cells had been used, never had a name. And the first experiment was a failure. The young girl died.

Furious though Heatra was, she continued her efforts. Eventually she lost count of the number of humans sacrificed for her experiment. But never did she give up.

Soon she came to the conclusion she'd have to grow the morph from one complex cell, the splice of the pink Celebi's cell and the first dead girl's. And one miraculous morning, Magenta was born.

The author speaks: I'd just like to give a hola to those who reviewed. Thank you guys so much!


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